


This is the Start

by pocky_slash



Series: Peter is the Doctor [1]
Category: Doctor Who, White Collar
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossover, F/M, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-27
Updated: 2010-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-15 22:36:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocky_slash/pseuds/pocky_slash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Peter isn't all that he seems and Neal just might get his hands on that music box after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is the Start

**Author's Note:**

> This is for [](http://mcwonthelottery.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://mcwonthelottery.livejournal.com/)**mcwonthelottery**. HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Originally, I was supposed to write her an epic story that included all our inside jokes, but the dinosaur sex show isn't on until Sunday. So! While Becca was here, this joke came up where Peter was The Doctor. And I decided to write fic.

There are flashing lights and screeching noises. Neal opens his eyes, squints against the glare. There's shouting and screaming and he has enough presence of mind to think, _I'm going to die. I'm really going to die._

Then he sees Peter.

It's like something out of a movie, Peter jumping over fallen debris, dodging sparks. Neal thinks he's hallucinating until Peter's arms are around him.

"Can't stay out of trouble, can you, Caffrey?" Peter says.

Neal blinks up at him in shock, in gratitude, in confusion. Then he closes his eyes and passes out again.

***

When Neal wakes up again, it's still loud, but the sound is different. He doesn't know how to describe it. It's almost like gears turning, something twisting... it's like nothing he's ever heard.

He opens his eyes slowly. There are no flashing lights. The cavernous room he's in is lit in soft, warm colors. Coral, maybe. Rough walls. Long struts. He's never seen a building like this.

There's some sort of console in the middle of it all. Elizabeth is sitting on the edge of it.

"What's going on?" Neal asks. "Where am I?"

"Are you okay?" Elizabeth asks before answering any questions. "God, that was so close! I couldn't believe--well." She crosses the room and crouches next to him, brushing his hair back. "You're okay," she says firmly. "That's what matters."

"Elizabeth," Neal says. "I--"

"He's awake, then?"

They both turn to look at Peter, walking out of a hallway that looks impossibly long. His suit jacket is missing and his tie is hanging around his neck. He's grinning madly, which seems so out of place considering they just barely escaped from....

"Robots," Neal says, breathlessly. He's glad he's sitting. If he were standing, he'd be staggering back to the floor. "Peter! They were... they were robots. They had these... there were lasers. They shot lasers out of this... thing, it looked like an eggbeater! And they had this other arm... I think it was an arm...."

He blinks, dazed, but Peter is still smiling that slightly manic smile. Elizabeth rolls her eyes.

"They're not robots, actually," Peter says. He shoves his hands into his pockets. "The outer part, that's just a casing for the alien on the inside."

"Alien?" Neal says. It takes him a moment to process a meaning for the word. "Alien."

"And I'm really sorry they came after you. They were after me. They must have put together that you'd be an easy way to get to me. They underestimated me again, though."

"Again," Neal says. He'll deny to his last breath that he's becoming slightly hysterical.

"I remember this one time... years ago, it was. And at least two different faces. I was in New York again, actually, which is odd. Back then I spent most of my time on Earth in the UK. But I was in New York and--"

Neal makes a panicked noise and Elizabeth starts stroking his hair again.

"Peter, you need to tone it down," she says, glaring at him. "He's obviously not handling this as well as you thought he would. Give him some time to comprehend it. Explain, maybe. _Really_ explain. Not like you explained to me."

Neal is already forcing himself to be calm. Sure, he's in some strange place after nearly being killed by robots and Peter is talking nonsense, but if this is some kind of test, he can't wig out. The whole basis of his relationship with Peter is seeing who will crack first, and after playing for years and being jailed twice, he's not about to lose.

"So, I was kidnapped by ro-- _aliens_ ," Neal says, summoning every trick he knows to keep himself from visibly losing it. Peter nods. "In an attempt to get to you." Peter nods again. "But you got us away."

"Yeah," Peter says. "It was a damn fine rescue. Sorry you were unconscious for most of it."

"Uh-huh," Neal says. He starts to push himself to his feet, graciously accepting Elizabeth's hand and taking a closer look at his surroundings. "I think Elizabeth is right. I think you should probably explain."

"Great!" Peter says. He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, towards the hallway he just walked down. "We should probably do that in the kitchen. You'll feel better with a cup of tea, I think."

"Tea?" Neal asks as Elizabeth herds him down the hallway.

"Trust me," Elizabeth says. "You'll need something. And I can slip you a little something extra if you need it." She winks at him.

Neal tries to keep track of where they're going, but there are way too many doors and then the hallway starts to twist. He wonders how big this place must be, how many rooms it must have. Peter looks like he's not entirely sure where he's going, peering into different doorways, until he stops abruptly.

"Not the kitchen I was looking for, but this will do," Peter says. It seems like a perfectly ordinary kitchen. There's a table with four chairs, a range, something that might be a fridge. "I'll make some tea. I can probably do coffee if you'd like. I don't drink it in the TARDIS, but I reckon I've learned enough on Earth to make a decent cup. I had a companion a few years back who made me learn. You'd have liked him--he was a conman too. And even if you didn't like him, he'd have liked you." Peter looks over his shoulder from his place at the range and gives Neal a cursory once-over. "You're definitely his type."

"Jack?" Elizabeth asks. Peter nods. It's Elizabeth's turn to look at Neal appraisingly. "Yeah. Definitely. Not that Jack is picky, mind, but you're his type." She smiles and pats his shoulder. "We'll give you the Jack story some other time. He has a habit of turning up, so it's best to be warned. He has a little thing for the Doc--Peter."

Neal nods, in a daze, and focuses on the cup of tea that Peter puts in front of him.

"So," Peter says, "My name isn't actually Peter Burke and I'm not _really_ an FBI agent. I'm a space and time traveler who ended up temporarily stranded on Earth and then decided to stay a little bit longer to set right a couple of historical issues."

"And get married," Elizabeth adds.

"And get married," Peter agrees. "Best wedding I've ever been to. No one died, no one crashed, no aliens decided to invade." Elizabeth gives him a look. "Oh, and Elizabeth was lovely."

"Thanks, dear," Elizabeth says dryly.

Neal is pretty sure he's staring.

"The FBI was my cover. There was a past version of me working with UNIT and I didn't want to cross my own timeline, so I hunkered down in the FBI. I had fixed the TARDIS--that's my ship. I mean, the one we're in now--and was ready to go when _you_ popped onto the radar."

"Me," Neal says.

"You're something of an icon in the future," Elizabeth says. "He's not supposed to, but Peter showed me."

"At first I thought you were a descendant. Or, rather, the you in the future was a descendant. But no. It's you. And in all the stories, you're accompanied by Peter and Elizabeth Burke. I was already using the alias Peter Burke and married to Elizabeth, so...."

"Not too hard to put the pieces together," Elizabeth says. "Not even for Peter."

"Yeah," Peter says. "Thanks." Elizabeth just smiles at him charmingly. "Anyway, I wasn't sure exactly how to proceed, and then the daleks happened so... I guess this is where we are."

He and Elizabeth turn to smile at Neal, as if everything should make sense now. If anything, Neal is more confused than before. He drinks his tea and wonders how hard he hit his head. Maybe he's drugged again. Maybe whoever grabbed him off the street knocked his head against the concrete.

"Let me... okay," Neal says. "So Peter's... what, an alien? And married to Elizabeth. Is that even legal?" He doesn't give them time to answer. "And your ship--which we are inside and is somehow bigger than a city block--was broken, so you holed up on Earth for awhile. In the FBI. Until you met me, and because sometime, in the future, I do something with the two of you, you decided to... kidnap me?"

"Not kidnap," Elizabeth says quickly. "You were kidnapped by someone else. We rescued you."

"Right," Neal says. He looks down at his tea. "Okay, this is funny. What did you put in the tea? Is this another FBI trick? I'm telling you, Peter, I don't know where the music box is. I'm trying to find it. I'm sorry I lied, but I'm not lying when I say this, okay?"

Peter shakes his head.

"I think there's an easier way to do this, Peter," Elizabeth says. She's giving him the look she normally reserves for the times when she's trying to get him to do the dishes. He sighs. "Come on."

"Fine," Peter says. He grabs Neal's arm and all but drags him out of the kitchen. Not that Neal is in any condition to protest. In no time, they're back in the main room with the struts and the console. The trip seems a lot shorter than the one to get to the kitchen, but Neal just files that away to be dealt with when the world starts making sense again. Peter marches him right up to the doors that Neal hadn't noticed before.

"Hold on," Peter says. Neal doesn't have anything to hold onto, so he takes Peter's hand.

Peter pushes open the door. And Neal stares out into the stars.

"Oh my god," he whispers.

He doesn't think the world is going to start making sense again any time soon.

***

"What I don't understand," Neal says, "is how I fit in."

They're back in the kitchen. He doesn't know how much time has past, but it must be hours. Hours spent going over Peter's past, his travels, his former companions, his time on Earth. He doesn't get everything and he can still only follow half of what Peter says, but Elizabeth is a big help. Somehow knowing that she's also nothing more than a twenty-first century Earthling who lived a boring, consecutive life before she met Peter is more comforting than anything else.

"I know we're going to be traveling together because I learned it in the future," Peter says.

"So, couldn't you figure out how to... I don't know, stop the dalek things?" Neal asks.

Elizabeth snorts. She quickly adds, "No, no, not you, Neal. It just means he's going to give his 'timey-wimey' speech."

Peter looks vaguely hurt. "Am I that predictable?" he asks.

"Yes," Elizabeth says.

"It's still a good speech," Peter says. To Neal, he says, "Everyone thinks time is a straight line, a straight succession of events. But it's not. It's more like--"

"A big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff," Elizabeth finishes for him.

"Yeah, thanks," Peter says. He scowls at her, but she's still smiling. Turning back to Neal, he says, "It's always in flux. Always changing. Reading in a book how to stop something doesn't necessarily mean that it will work. A million different things can interfere. Things can always change. I knew I had to get you to the future so you could be you, but I didn't know how. This was a pretty good opportunity."

Neal still doesn't entirely get it, but he's getting better at digesting these things, accepting them. It's not unlike running a con--fake confidence, fake knowledge, fake composure long enough and eventually you don't even realizing you're faking it. He can adapt to this. He knows he can, because Peter knows he can, and despite all of this, he still trusts Peter. Maybe even more than before.

"Okay," he says. "So now we're here. What happens now?"

Elizabeth and Peter share a look. Elizabeth's grin could light up the entire ship.

"Now," Peter says, getting to his feet and leading his way out of the kitchen, "we get to show you what's waiting for you out there." He strides up to the center console and stands in front of it. Elizabeth grabs Neal's hand and pulls him up to the other side. "Anywhere in time and space, Neal. Where do you want to go?"

Neal closes his eyes, overwhelmed. All of history laid out before him, the majority of which hasn't even occurred yet. At least, not to him. Christ.

Still, he already knows the answer.

"Russia," he says. "The end of the Romanov Dynasty."

"I think someone has his eye on a music box," Elizabeth says.

"Everyone always thought I had it," Neal says. "Might as well prove them right."

He glances at Peter, a slick smile hiding his hesitation. But Peter smiles at him just as brilliantly as Elizabeth.

"Hold on tight," Peter says. "There might be a little turbulence."

Neal grabs the railing. He doesn't plan on letting go any time soon.


End file.
